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Pushkin and the Sheriff’s Report
In a languid Russian story or play
A beautiful young woman in a summer dress
Beside a willow-tree lake sits and dreams
Over a novel as a caller arrives
But in our time we read in the sheriff’s report
Of tatted old meth-gals knifing each other
In a junked-out trailer surrounded by trash
While a bony meth-boy watches the fight
Love ends
Sometimes with notes in rounded copperplate
Sometimes with knives down at the trailer park
